


Nice Enough

by karcathy



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, implied homophobia cw, just in case i guess, sorry yeah, this is kind of really bad but i just wanted to write night vale fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 05:58:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karcathy/pseuds/karcathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People like Carlos weren't supposed to fall in love, but in a place where everything defies reason, perhaps even he could find something nice enough for now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nice Enough

**Author's Note:**

> So I kind of just had a bunch of vague ideas that turned into... this. Whatever this is.

Carlos couldn’t be entirely sure why he went to Night Vale, but he was fairly certain he went there to find something. He didn’t know what he was looking for, or how to find it, but he was sure to find _something_ in the most scientifically interesting community in the US. Whether or not it would be what he was seeking was beside the point. After all, so many scientific discoveries were made whilst looking for something entirely different that surely just looking for something would be enough.

 

He liked to have the radio on while he was working. Babbling talk show hosts made for pleasant background noise, and they didn’t tend to say anything too interesting. Night Vale only seemed to receive one station – some community radio show – but the presenter’s voice was soothing and made even the strange events of Night Vale seem commonplace. Carlos found his words easy to ignore as he pipetted tiny quantities of various strange compounds found around Night Vale into plates for analysis. 

 

He was vaguely wondering whether his assistant had sent the last samples off for PMF yet when he heard his name. Startled, he glanced over his shoulder, nearly knocking over a bottle of buffer, before realising it was coming from the radio. Curious, he leaned over and turned up the volume, wondering what these strange people thought of him. 

“ _...His hair is perfect, and we all_ _hate and despair and love that perfect hair...”_

His hair? Was that really all they were interested in? Well, perhaps they were used to the strange occurrences of Night Vale, but really, they could show a little more interest. Sighing, he turned the volume back down and returned to his workbench. 

“ _...and everything about him was perfect, and I fell in love instantly...”_

Carlos felt like his stomach was flipping upside down and his heart was beating too loudly and everything was slightly fuzzy. A small part of him, clinging to logic, told him that this couldn’t be true, that this guy barely knew him, that he was only exaggerating, joking, maybe even taking the piss. 

 

Flicking off the radio, he sat down, burying his face in his hands, and tried to calm his racing heart back down to its normal rate. This must all be an elaborate joke, he told himself. Perhaps someone back home...? But he thought he’d left all that behind. To hear it again now was just... unfair. 

 

He went home early, and lay in bed for hours. It took him a long time to fall asleep.

 

~ * ~

 

He kept listening to that show, to the man called Cecil who said the strangest things as if everyone should be used to them and who occasionally said things about Carlos that were even more incomprehensible than everyone else. Even thought he was almost certain it was a joke, his heart still leapt every time he heard his name, accompanied by some ridiculous compliment. 

 

He kept waiting for the joke to end, for Cecil to say the punchline and let him get on with his life, but it never came. And the more he heard, the more he thought that this _couldn’t_ be a joke – that Cecil _had_ to be serious, because why else would he continue? What could he possibly hope to gain?What would be the point of tricking him? Carlos couldn’t answer any of those questions, and, little by little, he began to think that, just maybe, Cecil really was hopelessly in love with him. 

 

That idea was, if anything, even more terrifying. Carlos had absolutely no idea how to cope with this sort of situation. How should he react? What was he supposed to say? This wasn’t science, with its tried and tested methodical approaches - this was something far more vague and uncertain than even the strange phenomena of Night Vale. 

 

~ * ~

 

He ended up mostly ignoring it. After all, that tactic had worked well enough for most of his life so far. He decided to stick to what he knew, and that was science, even in this place where even science didn’t seem to hold true. He could, perhaps, have avoided talking to Cecil at all, but a part of him wanted to hear his name said in that tone again. Besides, science was a safe enough topic, and listening to Cecil’s voice couldn’t hurt... Right? 

 

There’s something about hearing someone talk about you like that that makes you want to hear more. It’s only natural to want to be loved, after all. It’s only natural, but he’s been told otherwise so many times that he almost believes it. He doesn’t deserve to be loved. Love wasn’t made for people like him. 

 

~ * ~

 

Somehow, ignoring it didn’t quite work out. He tried to just talk about science, but ended up on a date with Cecil. Perhaps it was Cecil’s strange charm, or perhaps it was Night Vale, or perhaps Carlos was just a little more smitten than he thought, but whatever it was, it had gotten him out of the lab, although still in his lab coat, and onto a date. 

 

His stomach felt like it was housing a million butterflies, and he couldn’t be entirely sure it was really happening, but the date was nice. It wasn’t amazing, and it wasn’t bad, it was just... nice. Nice, Carlos thought, was an underrated word. And somehow, he managed to gather up the courage to kiss Cecil – and that was very nice indeed. 

 

And maybe, just maybe, nice would be enough. After all, if love wasn’t meant for people like him, perhaps nice was all he could hope for. 


End file.
